


Spring

by Starlithorizon



Series: Alchemy and Guitar Ties [42]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Cute Old Cuties, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Skipthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 06:40:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlithorizon/pseuds/Starlithorizon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin and Arthur enjoyed cold days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EverlivingGhosts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverlivingGhosts/gifts).



> EverlivingGhosts gave me this really, really cute idea, and I'm so happy that it happened. It's been a while since I've written for _Guitar Ties_ and that's distressing! But you know what's not distressing? The thought of these two being cute and old together. That's the exact _opposite_ of distressing.

It was cold outside. That came as no surprise, as it was January and it was England, and those two facts generally lent themselves to a sharp chill in the air. Though their bones creaked and ached with the cold, and though they shuddered with it more violently than they had as younger men, Martin and Arthur Crieff-Shappey loved it. Arthur liked walking to the high street with the wind snapping at his cheeks and reddening his nose, and Martin liked sitting at home in front of a fire, waiting for his husband to return.

On this day in particular, Arthur had just gotten back from his icy adventure, and his lips had been very cold where they had pressed against Martin's cheek.

"How was your day, love?" Martin asked as he shuffled into the kitchen to make a big mug of cocoa. Arthur drifted into the bedroom to change into something comfier, though he left the door open so his chatter could drift through their little house and into the kitchen with Martin.

"Oh, it was brilliant!" Arthur said brightly. It had always been endearing to hear Arthur call everything brilliant when they were young, and now that they were dotty old men, Martin loved it even more. Arthur was extraordinary and bright, and had long since replaced his "snazzy" cravats with bow-ties in dizzying colours and patterns. He wore soft jumpers and cardigans and sensible shoes, and he always had boiled sweets in his pockets. Arthur had taken to being an old man with relish, even muttering from time to time about "those whippersnappers on our lawn." When he'd first said that, Martin had given him a look and Arthur had burst into such brilliant laughter that Martin couldn't help giggling like a fool in return.

"Well? What's the gossip?" Martin called across the house. They'd long since fallen into a tidy little pattern, and the captain _loved_ it. He absolutely lived for the days when Arthur would natter on and on and on, telling Martin about everyone and everything he had come across in his wintry travels around town. And, just as predicted, Arthur spun into a long series of stories about the butcher, and the florist, and the owner of the little shop that only sold paintings of dogs.

"Margie's girl finally had her baby," Arthur said. "She named him Robert, which I think is a great name. They can call him so many different things! He can be Robbie, or Bobby, or Bob, or Rob! You can't do _nearly_ so much with Arthur. There's Artie, of course, and Art. Remember that time Douglas told the lady my name was Arth? I;m not exactly sure that it's the best name, but I do like it. And yours has less choices still! There's always Marty, but you don't like when anyone calls you that, so I guess it's down to Mart, but that seems a bit silly. Martin is a good name anyway. One of my favourites. Which reminds me: I ran into Paramount Martin!"

He kept going, breezing on and on through the town, and his husband of so many years was really only half listening as he stirred the cocoa on the stove. He paid a bit of attention as Arthur told him about their friend, the actor with whom he shared a name. Martin had watched Martin's children grow up, and while they never really filled that space in his heart the way his niece and nephew did, or the way Hannah's children did, they were wonderful kids. Annie was going to be graduating with her master's degree in the spring. Nolan was a fairly successful musician.

On and on the story went, growing steadily louder as Arthur came into the kitchen to stand behind the Skipper as he made their cocoa. This was an old tradition, and part of it involved Martin rolling his eyes and hiding his smiles during the endless tales.

He took the pot of cocoa off the stove, turning off the gas and deftly pouring the hot chocolate into two old and giant mugs. One large marshmallow found itself in Martin's mug, while four bobbed on top of Arthur's.

Two old, comfortable arms wound themselves around the captain's waist. A chin rested itself on his shoulder. Lips fluttered against the side of his neck.

"I love you, Captain Crieff-Shappey," came the words, and even after decades, they still thrummed sweetly in Martin's heart. He turned his head and kissed the love of his life.

"I love you, Mr Crieff-Shappey." They stood there for a moment, bathed in the crisp, cool January sunlight soaking their kitchen, swaying a bit in the way that couples sometimes do. They danced to a quiet song that neither heard but both felt. They felt love, and they felt luck, and they felt comfortable January afternoons collecting in the corners of their life like treasured works of art.

It felt like spring inside.

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd, un-Brit-picked, long overdue. All the usual stuff. Do you have cute Skipthur ideas you'd like me to write? Let's make it happen, guys!


End file.
